


Learning to love in a hopeless place

by Butterflyfish



Series: Getting to know Daryl Dixon. [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Fluff, Love, Sexual Content, Smut, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterflyfish/pseuds/Butterflyfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My 'Abra and Daryl' Alternative on the Bethyl episodes. Sorry... not sorry. </p><p>It won't be 'alone but with Abra instead' either. </p><p>We catch up with Abra and Daryl after the governor's attack on the Prison.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

We ran.

That's all I remember from the first moments after the tank exploded, Daryl having launched a grenade down the cannon and into the turret. He grabbed the back of my shirt and dragged me to my feet, pulling me away from the danger surrounding us. 

Blindly I ran until the air burned my throat and my legs went numb, Daryl with me the whole way. 

What do we do now? What do we do now that everything we had and all the safety is gone? There were no words, just hitched and difficult breathing. 

Were we the only ones? Were we alone now? I Didn't know, in that moment there wasn't room to care. I began to slow, though I had been training regularly since getting better, and Daryl pushed me forward some more until we reached a clearing, and I thought I might die.

I collapsed to my knees and cried out for the first time since the beginning of the attack. Yelled loud and ringing into the air around me. Everything was gone, the life we had made for ourselves, gone. My picture of Ben. The thought brought another wave of grief, how would I remember his face? How would I remember?

Daryl was beside me, lying on his back in the grass, not even trying to get me to calm down, not trying to shut me up or comfort me. At the time it didn't matter, now I know, he was grieving in his own way, battling his own demons after the governor's hideous attack. 

Then I heard the moans, and smelt the putrid smell of death which I thought I had gotten used to, I turned, still on my knees, to see them coming for us, a herd of the un-dead refusing to give up, not having the capacity to, like we had. Daryl was dragging at my clothes again, and again we ran. I felt sick, dizzy, I hadn't run like this in months, not since that day... the scratches.

I pushed the thought away and forced my legs to keep pumping on. 

 

We out ran them, we always do, but I was starting to wonder what the point of always running was. They always continued coming on, unrelenting, not sleeping, not slowing.

We camped in a secluded area of the woods, a small fire burning, not enough to keep warm by. I was hungry and tired and thirsty, and all we had was a small water bottle between us. 

Sitting on opposite sides of the fire, in order to keep an almost 360 degree view around us, surrounded by a string of junk we'd found on the road, I looked at Daryl, and he was concentrating on his bow, fiddling. He never overly fiddled, he wasn't a fidgeter.  He was avoiding me. I had thought we were past this shit.

"Daryl?" He look up at me under his greasy bangs, but his face was hard and cold and closed. I sighed and shook my hand at him. Never-mind, I couldn't talk to him if he was going to be closed off again.

He turned back to his 'bow, and we sat, silent and brooding together for the evening, not sleeping - not daring to - Though he suggested with a grunt that I get some rest, I declined, insisting perhaps he should get some sleep while I took watch, we'd need him more than we'd need me. 

He gave me a look I could barely read, thinking back I think he was annoyed at my lack of self worth. But who can tell when we were barely living side by side?

 

* * *

 

She kept runnin' her hand through her hair. The haphazard cut I'd given her had been neatened a little by Carol at some point in the recent past, and I noted she kept touchin' it, caressin' the now much shorter ends around her chin. She wasn't a hair toucher, not that I'd noticed before, but now she just kept curling the ends around her fingers. 

Was she rememberin' Carol? Rememberin' the night we spent in the huntin' lodge? or maybe the morning after, and the day she got sick, the day I had to cut her hair. 

I din't know, but the constant distant look on her face and the twirlin' of those chocolate brown strands was irritatin' me, so I looked away. There weren't no use rememberin'. It was all gone anyway.

We barely spoke for a day or two. Jus' runnin' was all there was. All we had. 

 

* * *

 

"It's been two days" I stood in front of him on his stupid log, with his stupid over cooked rabbit. My hands were on my hips and though I tried to be stern my voice croaked from dehydration, and the fact I hadn't spoken more than one word in all that time. He looked up at me almost dumbfounded, like he had no idea what I was talking about. Just looked at me like he'd forgotten I was even with him. "We gotta find them before the trail gets cold" He turned back to his rabbit and gnawed at the bone a bit more.  "Daryl" I insisted, and he looked up at me again with a sigh, like I was irritating him just by being there. 

"Ain't nothin' to find" he said, and popped his thumb in his mouth, sucking off the juices. 

"You don't know that" I replied, ignoring his obvious ruse to annoy me. He continued to suck on his greasy fingers one by one and I waited patiently as he did so. I wasn't going to waste energy being annoyed at him. When he finally finished he stood and looked down at me. 

"Ain't. Nothin'. To find." He whispered harshly, his forehead almost touching mine. I refused to be threatened, though, using some kind of animal tactic to scare me off was never going to work and he knew that, or he should have by then. I stood my ground and stared him down just as he did me. 

"There could be. Rick. Michonne. Maggie. you think they just lay down and gave in? After everything they've been through?" He sat down again and shrugged, picking again at the carcass of that damned rodent. It dawned on me then. "You're scared" this amused me more than it should have. and I'm sure the tone of my voice lilted with a barely hidden laugh. "You don't wanna look because you don't know what you'll find." He looked up at me again, dark eyes no longer squinting, but wide and bluer than the sea. He tossed the carcass into the barely there fire and grabbed the water bottle which held barely a single mouthful of water. 

"You're petrified" I said almost to myself, an evil little smug smile spreading on my lips. "You fucking coward" He selfishly gulped the last of the water and tossed the bottle at me. 

"You think you can do better than I am? Go find some water. You sound like you been suckin' off sandpaper" The bottle hit my stomach and fell to the floor, I looked at it, no longer amused, just angry.  I licked my lips, turned on the spot, and headed off in search of... anything. The bottle still lying where it had fallen.

 

I didn't want him to follow me, but I couldn't help keep looking over my shoulder.  I just walked in the direction I had assumed we came from, trying to be light in my step, but really too tired to even lift my feet. I looked for signs of life, movement. kept sniffing the air for smoke, maybe they were nearby and had lit a fire, maybe they had run through here and left a trail. Daryl had taught me some of what he knew, in between my jogging around the prison grounds to keep fit, and my weapons training with Carol.  

I felt like crying, but didn't have the energy or the water resources for the tears, but I sniffed loudly, and stopped as I heard a rustle behind me. 

Expecting to see Daryl, as ever, following me I turned slowly, and came face to face with the most rotten walker I'd seen in a long while, with my nose running from crying I hadn't smelled him before but now the wave of stench attacked my nose and threatened to make me gag.  It groaned and reached for me, grey/green skin peeling away from its rotting fingers, as I reached instinctively for my knife in its belt. 

I brought my knife up and stabbed the decaying asshoke through the chin, it's open mouth hanging limp, it's arms dropped to its sides, and I tried to pull the knife out, but it wouldn't budge.

cursing my luck and my lack of energy I put a hand against the things shoulder and yanked/pushed to free myself. As the knife came out suddenly my elbow flew back and was grabbed. I yelled in shock and turned, letting the walker fall and reaching for my machete with my left hand. 

I brought it up with some effort and found myself facing Daryl, who had hold of my elbow. 

I must have looked a picture, face set in shock, fear, and pain, pink hunting knife in one hand, machete raised as though to slash Daryl's neck in the other. 

He just looked as he had for the sat few days, angry, put out and dirty. 

"C'mon" he said gruffly. "We'll get some rest, n finda place to stay maybe tomorrow." He let my arm go and I turned to face him.

"The others?" I managed through my dry and closed up throat. He didn't answer, just led the way back to meagre camp.

when we got there, he turned to me before heading back to his log, mumbled something I could barely make out, and suggested more clearly that I get some sleep. I took the offer gladly, curling up with his words ringing in my head.

"I'm sorry"

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, sorry, there didn't seem a point to end it and move on. 
> 
> I hope it's worth the extra 4-600 words on what I usually attempt as a chapter length. ( I think it is...)

It was hard, so hard. I wanted to stay angry so I wouldn't feel the wrenchin' pain in my chest all the time, but it was too hard to stay angry with her. She looked lost, sad, but hopeful. Goin' on and on 'bout findin' the others, but I knew they'd be long gone by now, if they even got out.

After the farm we instinctively found each other, but it had been days, and no one came. It was time to move on from the spot we'd found so close to the prison. It was dangerous, and stupid of me to think they'd come. I couldn't look out for her like this, not feeling like I did, I needed to get over the feelin's in my chest, but I din't know how. She'd always been the one to give me perspective, but she was sufferin', and I hadn't the first clue how to do the same for her.

I looked at her, just wakin' up across the fire pit from me, lookin' pale and small in the big wide woods. She din't belong out here, no matter how much she said she needed it, she didn't need this. No place safe to go back to, no place to call home. Shit, even I was strugglin'.

_She deserved better._

* * *

I noticed him wake with a start, sitting bolt upright suddenly and his breath catching in his throat. But as he did so I closed my eyes, and pretended to be asleep a little longer. He was in a bad place, and though I stood with him through his struggle, and would through any struggle, I couldn't help him if I let him get to me, if I got drawn into his anger.

As I pretended to slowly wake up from a sleep I'd barely had all night, I wished he'd open up to me. Like he used to, before this mess. He was looking at me, watching me.

Back at the prison he'd sometimes sneak into my room and I'd catch him watching me wake, I'd open my eyes to his small smile and my own would spread involuntarily on my face. Those days would always start well, with a smile and a quiet 'hello, you' Not today. He watched as I woke up, face grim, eyes narrow, mouth a thin straight line.

"We gotta go" he said by way of good morning, then stood and kicked dirt over the dying embers of the fire.

 

We found a place. A cabin. It smelled bad and was a mess, but it had four walls, a roof, and was better than we'd had in a while. 

Daryl and I stood either side of the door at first, a little trepidation obvious in the air around us. We hadn't exactly had much luck of late.  I bounced from foot to foot, fight or flight in my mind, twisting my small pink knife over and over in my hand. Daryl was still, poised. He knocked on the door, and we waited with baited breath. After a few moments of silence he suddenly kicked the door with the bottom of his foot, his leg came down and his 'bow came up in a swift movement, it was like watching a specially choreographed dance. He swung the nose of the crossbow around the semi darkness of the room and put a hand behind him, flat of his palm up, telling me to stop, hold on, he was going in alone at first.

This bit always scared me, Daryl in there, able to look after himself, and me, out here, alone, uncovered on three sides, no one watching my back. Even though he could look after himself, what if Daryl came across a group of several, and needed my help, do I run blindly into the darkness? I shivered at the thoughts in my own head as he turned up at the door again

"It's empty" He sounded mildly surprised, and I followed him in. The place was disgusting, discarded cigarettes and beer cans all over the floor, the couch looked stained with all manner of bodily fluids, and newspapers littered the floor. It smelt like there was a cat living amongst it, but we didn't see any cat.

* * *

 It's odd to say, but that cabin really gave me a sense of home, my old home. After mom died and it was me and Merle and dad. It was disgusting, it was disgraceful, but it was all I knew. 

She still deserved better, but I had delivered something of cover, at least for a while. 

I kept failin' her, and it was startin' to wear me down. I know now how Rick felt when he perceived everythin' he touched turnin' to dust. Wantin' to do right by us, no wonder he had a breakdown. I get it now.

We moved in, I offered her the couch but she declined, wrinklin' her nose in that way she had, if I had the words I'd tell her how cute it was, her little bunny nose, but I din't wanna sound like a douche. 

I secured the door as best I could with some old furniture and walked back into the living room to find her crouching on the floor, too scared to touch nothin', looking like she might catch somethin' if she did. she looked up at me, eyes wide and starin', like she expected more, like I weren't doin' enough.

"I'm doin' my best, here" I pointed around the room, "Ain't no fuckin' castle, but what do you want?" She look at me, eyes still wide, mouth firmed shut, but then she stood, and headed over to me.

"It's fine" she said, walking past me, heading for what stood for a kitchen in this 'hole. "It's enough" She continued, opening cupboards and drawers. Looking for food, no doubt, though what she came up with surprised me, no man I knew in my father's circle of friends woulda left an unopened bottle of whiskey for long. 

"Ain't enough, ain't never enough." She took no notice, reading the back of the bottle of Jack, face slightly amused. She stood and headed back towards me with the bottle in her out stretched hand. She was so thin, her face had become sharp and angular where once it was a soft heart, with full lips and large eyes. Dark circles now sat above her cheekbones, It dawned on me perhaps she hadn't fully recovered from her illness before the governor came and blew everyone up.

"Daryl, stop. It's enough. " I took the bottle from her, looked it over, and went to hand it back, but she just gave me a tiny smile. "Let's drink it." A twinkle skipped across her dulled eyes, a smile toying with the corner of her mouth. I shook my head and thrust it towards her again.

"Worst idea you ever had, Ain't no time to be merry, in case you hadn't noticed everythin's gone to shit" She shrugged, still smilin' at me. 

"It's the perfect time" 

* * *

 

I took the bottle from him and unscrewed the lid. I just wanted one night where I didn't worry. This wasn't about celebrating, or commiserating, this was about just forgetting. I Couldn't replay the moments from the last few days over in my head anymore, I couldn't just sit, restless, and wakeful, wondering if people were alive or dead.  

"Don't you see?" I followed. "It's just what we need, one night, no worries, no cares, just... blissfully blotto" For the first time in days he smiled his beautiful smile at me, and my heart all but jumped out of my chest

"Blotto? Jesus where did you grow up, England? You get _blotto_ on Champagne, you get blind shit-faced on Whiskey" I laughed and took the bottle from him. "We better at least find some water first," he said wisely. But it wasn't a no, it wasn't a flat refusal.

 

He found a water butt out the back of the building, and surprisingly a few plastic bottles to fill. He came back and tossed a bottle at me, and I drank greedily, having not done so for a day or more. 

"Slow down, ya'll be sick" I stopped, swallowing, and turned to him breathless after my long drink, and smiled.

"Is there anything you don't know, Dixon?" He sat on the floor across from me and looked at the bottle of alcohol between us.

"I don't know why you think you need to get hooched up" I shrugged

"I don't want to think anymore" I looked away from him, not wanting to look him in the eye, awkward as the situation had been the last few days, and though I knew it wasn't me, wasn't us he was mad at, it was hard to take, and now so hard to face him, and my fears, all at once. "I don't want to remember, I don't want to... I just don't want to know anymore. " I toyed with the hem of my top, frayed and dirty as it was, I pulled at threads and rolled them between my fingers, letting them drop when they'd knotted into little balls. 

"OK" he said quietly. "Me neither" I looked up as he grabbed the bottle and took a long gulp, and handing the bottle to me. I took a gentler sip, the amber liquid soothing down my throat like honey, before sitting in my belly, warm and more welcome than I actually expected. "I'm not a fun drunk" he said, as I handed the bottle back. "I'm an asshole, really" He took a gulp and handed the bottle over again. 

* * *

"I'm a flirt, when I'm drunk." she said, with an exaggerated wink, and I couldn't help but smile. She was right, this was a nice change of pace, a nice break. I was already forgettin' the outside, the last few days, the fact she was eyein' me up was helping, three slugs in and she was already swayin' a little, givin' me doe eyes. "What would you be doing now if you wasn't here with me?" she slurred, leaning over to take the bottle outta my hand, not so bothered about the sticky floor anymore as she used one hand there to steady herself.

"What d'ya mean?"

"If you wasn't with me, now. If the walkers never came, what would you be doing at 10'oclock on a normal morning?" I sniggered, not that I meant to, the drink was gettin' to me already, too. 

"Dunno, probly doin' this, but with Merle. Or round some douchebag's house gettin' stoned. Why do you care? why does it matter?" she shrugged, handin' back the Jack bottle again and I took a big slug, 

"It doesn't" she said flatly, her eyes were sparkling again, though, it was good to see some life in them again. the last few days had worn her down, and she'd lost the spark. "You really think everyone's gone?" I sighed, thinkin' the whole idea of this was to forget. I told her so. "Yeah, yeah," she nodded to herself "Sorry, I just. It's difficult not to think" she reached for the bottle again, but I held on to it. 

"What would you be doin?" she shrugged, again reaching, but I pulled the Jack out of reach. She scowled at me, and crawled over, still reaching. 

"Gimme!" she said childishly "Gimme the goddamned bottle, Dixon" I pulled the bottle away further, got up on my knees using my slight height advantage, holdin' the bottle over my head. She sat back on her haunches and just stared me down, eyes narrow, and kinda wonky with the alcohol. 

"Tell me what ya'd be..." I started, but didn't finish, as she launched her self at me, uncoiling like a spring and knocking me on to my back, landing with her legs either side of me, the bottle, remarkably still in my hands, had sloshed a little liquid on the floor. she looked down at my prone form, a single eyebrow raised, and a sly smile on her lips. In that moment I would have quite happily just gone with the flow and fucked her on the filthy floor, surrounded by old porn mags and cigarette ends, but the alcohol got ta me and in stead I pushed her off, "Get offa me" I grunted, as she slid on to the floor. I took another large slug from the neck of the bottle and cursed loudly. "Fuckin' spilled this shit all over" She looked at me innocently enough, before getting up and grabbing at the JD. 

"Prick" she mumbled, around the rim, "Fuckin' dumbass redneck, hick" She took a long drink and looked down at me on the floor. "You spilt it, not me" 

 

* * *

 

"You call me?!" he got up and stormed over to me, knocking the bottle out of my hand, and onto the floor. Wow, he was an ass when he was drunk. The last drops of the golden whiskey sloshed in the bottle, not enough to spill onto the floor. "I ain't done nothin' but try and keep ya sorry ass alive, and you call me a prick? I know this ain't no fuckin' fancy pants castle, but what do you expect  outta me?" He was yelling, and I was suddenly worried we'd get heard. "Ain't got ya pretty girly shit all over the walls so it aint good 'nuff, I ain't good 'nuff?" I reached out to him, his arms flailing as he raged, and he managed to knock me on my ass. As I went down he stepped over me and into the kitchen, and then out the back. I got up with a bit of effort and followed, worried what I'd find, more worried about Daryl's state of mind. 

The whole point of us having a drink was really to get him to talk to me, and now that appeared to have backfired.

 


	3. Chapter 3

I stomped off out side to take a piss, knowin' I'd done wrong in knockin' her over, but what did it matter? What did anythin' matter? I shouldn'ta started drinkin', that was the problem, as much as she wanted to forget I couldn't help but remember. 

I pissed in the corner of the doorway and heard her comin' after me like a fuckin' sheep, that was what went through my head, lost little lamb couldn't be without me, but shit on everythin' I tried to do for her. 

It weren't true, and I think I knew that, deep down, somewhere, she appreciated everythin' I did, I was just an asshole when I was drunk.

"Lil Bo peep" I said, tucking myself away and turnin' to her. "Lost yer fuckin' sheep" 

"Hush your mouth, we'll get noticed" I looked at her and waved my arm

"Don't fuckin' matter, we're all gonna die anyway, why not do it now? Hey Walkers! Ya hungry!?"

* * *

He'd lost his mind, and it was all my fault. His demons obviously getting the better of him now he was intoxicated. I grabbed his arm and pulled at him, trying to get him inside, trying to get something of sense in what was already a nonsense day. 

"Daryl calm down, this wasn't supposed to go this way" He laughed, loud and harsh.

"No? How was it supposed to go then princess? How was this life supposed to pan out?" he was yelling, angry "No monsters eating ya bits and pieces? no one tearing you limb from limb? ya brother alive and kicking, huh? Hershel still with two legs and a fuckin' head?" I just listened, he needed to get this out, and walkers or not, he needed to vent. I had done this, why should I stop him?

"Supposed to be married and have babies? Maggie and Glenn and Rick and Lori playin' happy families, huh? Dale and his fuckin' hat" I had no clue who Dale was, and I'd heard about Lori. I swallowed as I heard a noise behind me, trees rustling. It could just be a rat, or a rabbit. Maybe a snake. "Ain't happenin', sweetheart, they're dead. they're all dead. And you're dead, and I'm dead, we might as well just give in." I glanced behind at the lone walker who had heard Daryl's outburst. 

"Ok," I said. turning back to him "Here's one now. Who's first? Me? or you?" The walker was slow, bumbling. It dragged one leg, which helped.

Daryl needed to get out of his head.  He looked at me, stony, narrow eyed, but didn't answer. His muscles were tense, and his jaw set. He was angry at the world, and I Was the only one here to take the brunt of it. 

"What is it Daryl. Who gets to give in first? Who is gonna be the one who gets the freedom of dying and not watching the other turn in to one of these beasts, huh?" He didn't answer, was just looking at me, his face red with spent anger, his bow still across his shoulders. "Wouldn't it be so easy? A few minutes of pain, and then...nothing" as the Asshole stumbled closer, and began to groan at the sight of us, Daryl pulled up his crossbow, and pointed it at my head. 

"I shoot you now, ain't no one gotta see no-one turn" I pulled my knife from my thigh and looked at Daryl, his 'bow loaded, arrow poised to fly into me. It would be easier, but it wasn't what he wanted. I knew that much. The walker was close enough now, I could turn and stab it in the eye without much effort, providing my alcohol soaked brain could aim that well. I no longer felt drunk. 

"That really what you want, Daryl? to be alone?"  He looked at me across the top of the weapon, again hard and closed. For half a second, then, I believed it, almost saw in my minds eye Daryl pulling the trigger or letting fly. I closed my eyes, waiting for the feeling of air moving around me, waiting for the short burst of pain.

But nothing. I opened my eyes, the bolt had been released, and I could no longer hear the asshole behind me.

"No one else dies" Daryl said as I checked to be doubly sure the walker was really finished "Ain't losin' no one else." his voice was unsteady, and I wanted to reach out to him, but it had been so long I almost didn't know how to. 

I needn't have worried, he extended an arm to me and I gladly took his hand, and he twisted me into a one sided hug. "No one else" he said again, and kissed the top of my head. 

* * *

 

We sat on the porch of the run down shack a little later, after a sleep and a meal of scraps we'd found around the place. I'd giggled at some porn I found in the old bathroom, and was almost sick when I realised some of the pages were stuck together. Daryl had called me childish, and I'd found another bottle of booze, but trashed it before the thought of drinking could enter my head again. worst idea ever. Daryl had been right about that. 

"Come on," he said to me now, and I looked back at him, having been staring at the moon. It lit his face on one side, pale and perfect. "tell me what you did before this mess" I eyed him suspiciously. 

"I thought none of that mattered" He shook his head gently

"Naw, I was being a dick, come on, what did you do?" I looked away again and out to the trees, the moonlight shining on them like silver, as if it had snowed, or even been frosty. I closed my eyes and thought back to my days before the end of the world began. I loved what I did, More than anything I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I was an entertainer" I opened my eyes and looked at him sideways, but his expression hadn't changed. "I, uh," I turned toward him more, faced him dead on "I was popular with pre-teens and older men..." I laughed "Like Miley Cyrus before she went bat shit crazy." He nodded a little

"I can see why you'd be popular with the older men" and I rolled my eyes in the darkness. 

"Daryl Dixon!" I chided. He smirked at me

"Were you one a the little sluts in a mini skirt and sky high heels, shaking yer ass and upsetting mothers across the country?" he was still smiling his small smile, and despite myself, I was smiling too. 

"Something like that." I sidled a little closer to him and touched his leg gently. "You like the idea, what with being an older man?" He snorted at me, looked at me with mock disdain.  

"I ain't more'n 10 years older'n you" I laughed, and stroked his thigh. 

"If that." I rested my hand on the denim on his leg and looked out into the night. It was cool, and beautiful. The moon, not quite full, lit the land like a picture postcard. "They're out there, Daryl. I can feel it. There's still some of them out there" I felt his arm snake around my shoulders and pull me in. I turned my face to him, and his lips were on mine in an instant, softly, gently, he kissed me, and I brought my hands to his face, feeling the rough hair of his beard with the pads of my fingers. He opened his mouth, and I followed suit, leaning into him before pulling away and climbing into his lap, facing him. He put his hands on the small of my back and pulled me close as we kissed again, tongues curling around each other.

He pulled away and looked at me, his eyes glistening like stars in the moonlight.

"Ain't safe to do this out here." in response I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it aside, before grabbing his face and kissing him again. 

* * *

She sat on top of me in her grubby white bra, and kissed me again despite my reservations, and I lost it. There was nothing in the world but me and her. I reached behind her and freed her of her bra. She sat back and let me admire her nakedness in the glow of the moonlight. 

Despite her collarbones stickin' out, despite her stomach being slightly concaved, she was beautiful.

I took her left breast in my mouth and she raked her fingers into my hair, I moaned against her erect nipple and she moaned right back, pullin' away n gropin' at my belt like she was desperate, and the more she struggled with it, the more desperate she got, it'd be funny if I din't wan' it as much as she did. 

I picked her up, far too easily, and sat her on the porch step next to me, tacklin'the belt myself. She was on me in a second, kneeling in front of me, taking my cock in her mouth. 

* * *

 

He tasted salty and sweet at once, and I pushed his unwashed state out of my mind, we both needed this, and it wasn't like no one had sex in the dark ages.

I undid my own belt, and my own fly, and when I could I stood and removed them and my underwear, my machete clattered as it hit the porch deck, but we barely paid it any mind as Daryl pulled me close, and eventually on top of him. He sat, me on his lap, and attacked my chest again with his rough tongue. 

I was reaching my rhythm when I heard the first groans, unlike Daryl's quiet grunts these were the unmistakable moans of the dead. 

"Uh, Daryl" I managed, trying to stop, but his hands found my hips and he began to rock me back and forth. I grabbed his hands and tried to pull them away. "Walkers" I managed, and in a second he'd thrown me off, pushed me in the open door, and pulled up his pants. 

Another few moments and he'd launched my clothes at me and swung his crossbow up to his face, shooting two walkers in the head and wounding another. He dashed in to me and we blocked the door again. 

We sat, quiet, for a moment or two before I had to stifle my giggling, and as I raised my hand to my mouth he was on me again, and we fucked amongst the cigarette butts and newspaper clippings, while the walkers outside scratched at the door.


	4. Chapter 4

When I woke in the morning Daryl had apparently already been outside and cleared up, got his bolts back from the walkers, and found cigarettes on one of them. 

He was sitting next to me, arm around his knee, smoking a cigarette. 

"Hello, you" I offered, sitting up and finally feeling more normal. I was wrapped in a blanket, and I tried not to think of where it might have been. 

He turned to me, face thoughtful.  

"Been thinkin' 'bout what ya said, bout the others. Ya right. They gotta be out there. They ain't gonna lay down and take it, I don't think it's in 'em" 

I nodded at him, of course I was right, I was always right. But I daren't say that out loud to him. Getting him on side had been a hard slog and I wasn't about to ruin it now. 

"You have any kinda plan?" He'd clearly been up some time, he must have thought of something. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and gestured in the direction of the prison. 

"Retrace our steps back to the prison, there's bound to be some clue there"  He sat there, puffing on his stolen cigarette looking sexy as all Hell. Knowing he'd finally come around to my way of thinking just made him even more desirable. The idea of finding our people lit something deep inside me, some fire I didn't realise had gone out, and I couldn't wait to get going.

Daryl flicked his cigarette away and stood, stretching out his back. His shirt rose and exposed a touch of pale skin, and something in me span. I smiled lazily at him as he righted himself, and grabbed his crossbow.

"When ya gon' be ready?" he asked, and the simple fact of him asking, of talking to me after our few days of hard, awkward silence, was warming in the chill of the morning. We felt right back where we were, to me at least, in those quiet unassuming days at the prison. I longed to be back there, but it was gone.

"Soon" I said finally, throwing off the dirty blanket and stretching my legs in front of me.  

"K, I'mma be outside." with that, Daryl poked his head out the dirty curtain at the window, checking the coast was clear. Apparently it was, and he reached for the door, moving the furniture easily. Despite not eating well for days his strength amazed me.  

But as the door swung open a flash of light caught my attention, and I turned to the source. 

Daryl's cigarette lay on the myriad of newspapers and magazines, and as if by magic as I watched, I felt and heard a definite 'Whoosh' and the floor became ablaze. Frozen in place I stared as the flames rolled and roiled across the floor towards me, licking and lapping greedily at the strewn floor as they did so. 

"Oh" I managed, as Daryl grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the door, he was yelling, but I hadn't ever realised how loud flames could be. He pushed me out of the door, shutting it behind him and looking briefly for something to block it with, as if shutting the door of a wooden cabin would suffocate the fire already reaching and crawling up the dirty net curtains inside.

we watched a moment in silence. The flames clear and obvious at the window were mesmerising, and I could have watched for hours. Daryl, beside me, was quiet, lost in his own world, too, and if it hadn't been for the walkers attracted by our sudden movements, we would have seen the windows blow, perhaps been injured by flying glass, which could have caused cuts that could get infected... In a way, I guess those walkers saved our lives.

* * *

 I don't know what I expected to find at the prison. I really don't even know what I was thinkin'. It made so much sense back at the shack, but now, as we looked at the carnage, I wished we'd started somewhere else.

Walkers, everywhere, inside the fences that were s'posed to keep us safe. Most of the wire was down now, weakened by the attack and flattened by the sheer number of geeks. It had been three days, but smoke still rose in places. Charred walkers strolled around like nothin' had happened.

As Abra reached my side through the trees I heard her gasp. I guess in the thick of it you just din't really see how bad it was.

"we can't go in there" I turned to her and saw her eyes glazed and wide as she stared at the horror in front of us. Her mouth was a perfect circle of shock. Her arm reached out like she was gonna touch the air, to make sure what she was seeing was right. She welled up n' took an unstable step forward.

"Oh" She kept sayin' "Oh, Oh no" I took hold of her arm n' held her back, not entirely sure what she thought she might do.

"Abra," I tried "C'mon we can't go in there" She turned to me, not really seein' me, her mouth just openin' and closin' like a stunned fish.  "We'll start back here" I tried with her "We ain't gotta get too close, we'll be safe" but she pointed, slowly, like she was underwater and I followed her finger, seeing little Luke stumblin' and fallin' around. His arm and leg were twisted at impossible angles.

A strangled cry came from Abra, n' all I could do was stare, as she pointed n' stuttered a staccato of nonsense and tears.

"We can't leave him like that Daryl" she managed to say, "It's the code, we can't" She went to step forward again.

* * *

He grabbed me around the waist and flung me backwards without too much effort as I moved forward as though to aide Luke, I tumbled across the floor like a rag doll, but I got straight back up and walked towards him again, looking at me scowling, what was he so angry about? Luke needed to be put down, this was atrocious. 

I know I wasn't in my right mind then, all I wanted was to put poor little Luke out of his misery. I couldn't understand why Daryl looked so angry, or how he could just leave him. 

I narrowed my eyes and put my hands out, pushing Daryl in the chest. 

"We can't leave him like that!" I yelled, shoving at Daryl's immovable form. He took it well, standing firm but letting me have my outburst. I began to pummel at his chest, I think I Was yelling, but all I remember is his hard chest under my fists. He grabbed my wrists tightly, stopping my abuse, and holding me up as my legs collapsed, knees giving out, all the energy draining from me.

"It's too damned dangerous" he said, as I sobbed. "For God's sake Abra, give it a rest, It's over, the prison is gone, and if you scream like that again we ain't gonna last much longer either" He let my wrists go and took me under the arm, to hold me up, perhaps to be close to me. "That ain't Luke, ok? We gotta get away from here and look for the others, isn't that what you wanted?" I sniffed loudly and an odd noise came out of my throat, but the tears were slowing as sense finally got through to me. 

"He's just a boy, Daryl" I looked at him, seeing him for the first time since I'd laid eyes on the prison "just, like, 7 or 8, and he's..." I looked back at the little walker, unable to finish my sentence, not sure _how_ to finish. He's what? dead? no, that wasn't right...

"It ain't him" Daryl said again, and I nodded and stood on my own, releasing myself from Daryl's firm but not painful grip.

"I hope he died quickly" I looked at Daryl "I want that, for all of us." I looked back out at the prison, the farm, the horses on their sides, bellies ripped open and intestines spilling out.  I saw my favourite horse, the beautiful glossy mare I referred to Aphrodite, who had made it back on her own the day Daryl and I had been attacked by a passing herd, and my heart flip flopped. Her stiff form, on it's side, not much left of her. 

"Me too," Daryl said quietly beside me. "C'mon, before the walkers notice we ain't them"

We turned away from the hideous scene, and into the woods behind us, where we had come from. Daryl gestured we walk around the area a bit, looking for evidence of the others. 

It was quiet, and he kept looking over at me as if I might leave suddenly, and finish off Luke, or any of the others in our group who may have met the same fate. I wasn't going to do that, I'd seen the sense in leaving them as they were, at least for now.

"Shit"  His words knocked me back into the present, his tone more surprised than worried at what ever he had found. I jogged up to his side, having lagged a little. He was looking at the ground, and what we saw lifted my spirits. 

Daryl, crouching for a closer look, looked up at me, his expression unreadable, but I smiled down wide and open.

A very clear, very large footprint. A cowboy boot, with a medium round toe. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

I looked at the footprint, and the scraped out mud beside it. We were lucky to find anythin' after three days, but this din't look good. 

He was at least limpin', dragging one of his feet behind 'im, stumblin' away from the scene. That was the only good point here. He was movin' away.

I knew by now that Walkers herd together, kinda playin' copy cat. It wouldn't be right for a Geek to be goin' in the opposite direction.  Abra straightened

"What?" she asked, sharply, bein' able to read my silence better'n I thought. "It's that scuff mark isn't it? You think he's gone?" I din't know, There was only so much a footprint could tell me. I stood up, shrugging. 

"I don't know. Injured, maybe" I looked around at the bushes near the shoeprint, "Check that out" I said, pointin'. She leant over and rubbed at the leaf, the blood was dry, but she touched it, rubbin' it between her fingers like she might be able to visualise what had happened. She mumbled something I couldn't make out and then smiled shyly

"That which doesn't kill us, makes us stronger" she repeated "Corny, but he could just be holed up somewhere, angry and getting better" I din't know about that. I let out a harsh laugh, I liked to live in the now, and all I knew for sure was that Rick was limpin' n' bleedin'. 

"there was a lot goin' on, whatever this means, he's gon' be some ways away. It's been three days" She crouched again, scowling at the ground as if lookin' for more clues. I din't think I'da missed anythin', but we had been trainin' not long before the shit hit, and the practice would be good for her. At least now she weren't caterwaulin' and punchin' me. I watched as she ran her hand lightly over the foot print, and then stood and followed in the direction it pointed, I tagged along, not wantin' her alone at all, not wantin' to miss miss nothin' 

What else could we do but follow the clues?

* * *

 I could barely hear Daryl behind me, he was so good at this tracking and hunting business, I could have easily forgotten he was there, or worse he could have easily just left me, and I would be none the wiser at first. I kept looking back to check he was there. 

"Watch where you're walkin'" he said with a mock huff to his voice as I turned for the umpteenth time. "Don' wanna miss nothin', don't wanna stand on nothin' either" I faced front again, studying the ground, studying the trees and the brush surrounding us. There were no more footprints, the ground was drier here. I tried to treat this like one of our training sessions, no pressure, but it kept coming back to me that we were looking for real people. Our people. 

Though I was late to the group, I felt like a real part of it from day one, and I didn't want to let anyone down.  I sighed, and stopped, Daryl came up beside me and looked at the ground

"I can't see anything" I almost whined, the pressure getting too much, the false hope fading away. I looked at Daryl, looking around us and he nodded his single shallow nod 

"Look here, though" he said, crouching. I followed suit and he pointed "the leaves here're all spread. and there's little ball a mud, you see?" I nodded 

"It's almost like, someone turned on the spot" Daryl patted me on the shoulder twice and stood, it was an oddly brotherly gesture, but I ignored it, he always got a bit weird when he was teaching me, like he had to separate the us in the bedroom from the us in the classroom. 

"Yeah, kinda." 

"So, He's alive?" I felt the excitement in my voice, brimming and spilling despite trying to keep cool and calm and collected. I felt my eyes widen, and colour pour into a world which had gone grey and fuzzy when we'd arrived at the prison. Daryl looked at me, no where near as excited as I was, but I could see hope in his face, in the set of his brow, no longer creased and furrowed.

"Well, He coulda been followin' someone who saw him, or someone mighta been leadin' him... He mighta seen walkers comin'. Shit it might not even'a been him" I felt my own brow crease

"What do you mean?" Daryl crouched again and gestured at the small cleared area. 

"Feet that did this were smaller than the print back there. Maybe a kid..."

"Carl?" Daryl shrugged again. His new favorite gesture. I knew you could only tell so much. Sometimes all we had, every clue, wasn't going to be enough to be a definitive answer. "I mean, Rick wasn't going to just pick up a random kid to follow... and it makes the most sense." Daryl nodded and stood again. looking at me with clear eyes and an open face.

"It does and they din't turn back,  these go full 360, they were still headin' that way, whoever they were"

* * *

 

we walked a few miles without seein' nothin' else. Came across a train track, and a couplea' dead walkers.

The sun was high, and I could hear Abra's guts talkin' to her. We needed to eat, but besides human, I hadn't seen no animal tracks either. I turned to her, hovering next to me like she had somethin' to say.

"you aight?" She gave a hesitant nod.

"Yeah...I, erm... Have a call of nature" I smirked a little. So coy, despite everythin' we'd done together. 

"'K, ya know what ya doin', knife in one hand, eyes all 'round. I'll wait here. D'ya know what poison ivy looks like?" She gave me the finger and disappeared into the trees. I took the moment respite to sit and check over my 'bow. The bolts were wearin'. I'd need to make some if we were gonna last any. 

I gelt a presence at my shoulder and looked up, expectin' Abra back,  but I was surrounded by dirty lookin' men dressed almost head to toe in denim. 

* * *

 

I stood just behind a thicket watching it all unfold. These men kinda seemed like Daryl, although something was different, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. 

They all stood there, all these guns and bows pointed at Daryl's head. Eventually he lowered his crossbow and as one they did the same.

When he protested that he wasn't alone and he was waiting for someone they seemed to laugh it off, and encouraged him to go with them. He looked back, and must've seen me as he turned to face front again and encouraged me to follow with a waft of his hand.

He'd seen something or heard something he wanted from these people, that's all I could decipher from his actions. So I followed. A safe distance, as Daryl had taught me, I was light on my feet, I always had been, and I kept in the trees and the shadows as they walked, chatting away like old pals.

Confused, I tried not to let my intrigue get the better of me. 

* * *

 

She weren't ready for this level of trackin' but I couldn't bring her out with a group of men like this. Shit they'd'a probly killed me to get her.

They were all about takin' what they wanted, with some odd rules and regulations which they thought made it all ok. I knew guys like this inside out, and they weren't gettin' their hands on Abra. 

 I just hoped she knew to stay away while I got what I wanted from 'em. I had a feelin' 'bout 'em, not a good one, but a feelin' they'd lead us to what we wanted.

I had to force myself not to keep lookin' 'round for her, but I trusted her. I hoped that was enough

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Claimed" I heard Daryl yell, I looked up and a wave of anger, disappointment, crossed his face. They'd spotted me milliseconds before, hiding in a tree and losing my footing on a slimy branch. They beckoned me down and Daryl yelled the magic words before anyone else could. 

"Now now, Daryl, hold on" Their leader, Joe, butted in, walking up to me as the others looked me up and down, licking their lips like hungry dogs. I saw Daryl's whole body tense as Joe approached me, and there was a look in his eyes I'd not seen before. I wondered if this was the old Daryl people spoke about, the one with nothing but anger and confusion in his heart.

"Claimed" He said again, walking up behind Joe, eyeing me over his shoulder.

"Been following us, lady?" Joe asked me, ignoring Daryl completely. I looked at Daryl, just a flick of my eyes, and Joe turned to him, seeing the subtle movement. Shit. "I see" He nodded at Daryl, "The 'someone' you were waitin' for, huh?" Daryl stiffened again, then nodded his single tiny nod, still eyeing me angrily over Joe's shoulder. I'd clearly ruined some plan I wasn't even privy to the details of.

"Joe" one of the others whispered, and Joe looked across at the guy coming stealthily out of the trees beside us. "It's him, he's with other people, but he's there"  I watched as Joe strode over to his gang member, and the others also rallied around. Daryl just looked at me, obviously wanting to say something, clearly not finding his words.

"Daryl" Joe Stage whispered "It's him, this is the guy. You in?" 

"Stay here" Daryl whispered harshly at me, giving me real stink eye, before moving in with the rest of the greasers in their huddle.  

* * *

 

"You stay with ya girl" Joe told me. "You keep her safe, one of these freaks has got a sword, a fuckin' sword! Do you believe it?" and that's what confirmed it. It was Rick, Michonne, hopefully others. I nodded and hung back as the others crept so quietly in the bushes, not a single twig snappin' 'tween them.  They were assholes, but they were stealthy assholes.

I looked at Abra and shook my head

"Can't you do nothin' right?" my voice was harsher than I intended, perhaps 'cause I was tryin'a whisper, most likely 'cause bein' with these guys had almost turned me back into the man I was at the start of this shit storm. I wasn't angry with her, I wasn't even disappointed. I just wanted her safe. She looked at me with her eyes narrowed, but kept her mouth shut. Good job really, a blazin' row right now wouldn't help anyone. She looked pissed, and I could understand. I left her, and now I was being moody with her. She didn't have a clue what the plan was I formed in my head. 

I crept close to the bushes again, and listened hard. The gang had reached the road just the other side where Michonne and Rick sat, I couldn't see anyone else. 

Then I felt Abra beside me. God dammit the girl would not do as she was told. I scowled at her as Joe and his men moved to surround Rick and Michonne, and before all Hell could break lose I nudged Abra and put a finger to my lips. There was two ways this could go down, I didn't want Abra making it the wrong one.

* * *

 

I could hear Rick and Michonne talking. My heart felt like it both stopped and sped up all at once. That Joe had death in his eye, and my friends were in his sights. 

As they chatted, about food, about a place called Terminus we had seen signs for, I held my breath.

"Get away" Daryl whispered at me, "They have guns, and bad ideas." His eyes were still angry, his jaw set and his body tensed. 

As if they heard a cue from somewhere, from us perhaps, Joe had started counting, loudly.

"TEN" I looked at Daryl, panic coursing through me. I'd seen these guys murder one of their own, but at the thought of Rick getting at one them was different. Different for them. Daryl bristled visibly beside me. 

"NINE" They'd already motioned that they'd rape Michonne, and 'the boy' Carl? maybe, but I couldn't see. Daryl was already moving, as Joe shouted "EIGHT", and was pushing me backwards, farther into the bushes, closer to the way we had come. This was insane.

"Hold Up!" I heard Daryl, how had he got in there so quick?

"You're Stopping me on eight Daryl." It was a warning. I crept close, listening, trying to be quiet, but there was so much tension in the air I could taste it. What Daryl hoped to achieve, I didn't know, but I had to be there, I had to help if I could, even if Daryl thought I couldn't

"They're good People" I could see now, the look on Joe's face, the gang members holding Michonne and Carl, the gun at Rick's ear.

"This man killed our friend. You say he’s good people. You know that right there is a lie. It’s a lie!" Shit. Shit. They'd killed their own guy for lying. I panicked, looked around me for some form of distraction. "Teach him all the way" I heard Joe, laughing. Laughing! 

Then the pummeling started, as soon as Joe gave the word.

"It was me" Rick said then, and I didn't know what to do, how I could help.  "Just me" He reiterated. But Joe continued with his plans, whoever Rick was with was going to get it.

 “First we’re going to beat Daryl to death. Then we’ll have the girl. Then the boy. Then we shoot you and then we’ll be square.”  He hadn't figured on me yet, was I forgotten or just not important? Had he not linked me with Daryl and 'these' People?

As a million thoughts rushed through my head at lightning speed I suddenly heard a gunshot. I focused on the scene and saw that no one appeared dead, but pandemonium was about to start, Joe on Rick, Rick looking shell shocked, shaking his head from time to time after the gun had gone off so close,  A guy on Michonne, and a guy holding Carl down on the floor. On top of that the other three were beating Daryl half to death. 

Now that everyone appeared engaged, it was time to come out. As hard as it had been to stay put, now I couldn't get my leaden feet to move. 

I reached for my hunting knife, the Machete strapped on my leg too big and too cumbersome to wield like Michonne's Katana, and edged forward, closer to where Daryl was fighting off the gang of cowards on his ass. 

I crept as stealthily as I could, and they didn't notice, until I grabbed one by the back of his denim vest and stabbed him in the eye, like a walker, when he turned to me.

But it wasn't like killing a walker, he wasn't dry and crumbly, there was real live meat and bone within him, I felt a squidgy jellyness as his eye burst and blood splattered over me, and his arms reached out, waving, like he was trying to swim. It was hard to push through the socket far enough to get to his brain, and the resistance was sickening. But I did it, and as I did he yelled, and the other men on Daryl turned to see what the fuss was about, giving him a chance to fight to back.

I felt nauseous, but there was no time to dwell on it, I could be sick later if I had to. 

* * *

 

As I heard the yell, I also turned, seeing Abra out the corner of my eye, God Damn it she just couldn't _resist_ doin' the opposite of what she was told, I had this covered! 

Still, One guy less was good, and I felt I could get my footing better with the other two. Abra looked like Hell, and though she'd killed before, she'd told me so when Me and Glenn first found her, I gathered this was different, just by the look on her face. 

As one of the men went for her, I swung my crossbow into the side of his head, not happening, no one gets to beat on my girl. I left Abra to do what she would and aimed a bolt at the head of the other. He looked scared, sorry, and sad all at once, but I had no room for sympathy no more, I shot him, point blank, just like that.

I retrieved my arrow and went to Abs, kneelin' over a second dead man. His face shocked in death, blood pooled around his limp form. she'd slashed him with the knife, getting the jugular. He'd died quick, the blood weren't pumpin' out no more. She was pale, quiet. I grabbed her by the arm and lifted her to her feet, there were still maraudin' assholes to deal with, she could be sad later.

* * *

When Daryl grabbed me I looked up, and noticed Michonne and Carl staring at Rick, who appeared to be in the middle of nuzzling Joe, whose face was a picture, frozen in shock and injury. We all watched as Rick ripped his head back from Joe's neck, The spongy cartilage of Joe's oesophagus in his teeth. 

It was too much, I felt the blood drain from my face and pool somewhere near my knees, and the world swam for a few seconds. Then, as the last man standing grabbed Carl in desperation, and Rick split him from stomach to throat for his actions, his guts spilling out like so much spaghetti, I turned and vomited. Daryl patted my back softly, but I pushed him away. 

I righted myself slowly and looked at Daryl as though for the first time. 

How had we come to this?

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl expects a fight that Abra isn't even spoiling for and Carol gives some advice.  
> It just goes to show that Daryl is still think people expect the worst of him

How had we come to this?

It was a question that went over and over in my mind as we walked the train tracks to Terminus, as we entered the End of the Line. How had we come to this.

Sunflowers stood out bright and yellow against the dreary back drop, the place looked well established, Mary seemed so nice.

How had _they_ got to _that?_

I didn't know. I didn't want to. 

Subconsciously I kept my feet on the railroad sleepers, stepping wide, and not touching the crushed stones between them. 

Don't step on the cracks.

After the Attack on Rick, Michonne and Carl, Daryl had kissed me hard, firm and fast. There was no romance in it, no love, just a need to be firm with me, in charge of me. It was weird and uncomfortable, but I let him do it, I'd crossed a line he put in place for my safety, and could have got myself hurt. He was angry for that. If the weird release was what he needed, then so be it, we'd all been through enough.

But, at this place we called Terminus, This literal end of the line for so many, he consistently ensured I was safe, even pushing me over the fence when I had no energy left after attacking Assholes, and even adrenaline couldn't help me escape the walkers on fire. As we landed on the other side he looked me over, assuring I was in one piece. For Daryl, this was showing love, and I accepted that. 

We were all together again now, Glenn, Maggie, Carl, Rick, Michonne, Tyreese and Baby Judith, Sacha, Bob, and new people, Abraham, Rosita, Tara and Eugene.

Carol had saved us from being eaten by monsters even more dangerous than the walkers we faced every day; but she was different somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it. She was distant and quiet.

Daryl had cheered up a lot since he saw her again. He was sure he never would, and confided in me that she was his sister, and he loved her and he missed her. She was the reason he had changed so much, he said. I didn't know him before, but to see him turn back in to the Daryl I knew just from meeting her again was like some sort of magic. I envied that she could do that to him. I envied it a lot.

* * *

Abra was jealous.

She never said nothin' directly, but it was clear. Every now 'n then she'd be off with me, or Carol, or anyone else.

I don't know what, if anythin', went through her mind when Carol and I disappeared in the night, me stoppin' Carol from runnin' away, Carol thinkin' the group of us were better without her. She even mentioned Abra, 

"They look at me like I don't belong anymore" She said. I asked her who...

I weren't happy about it, Abra wanted to be with me, then she was gonna have to accept all of it. I wan'ed to talk to her, but I din't know what to say, how to say what I meant, and make it clear. I weren't angry, If Abra had an old friend I din't really know who turned up outta the blue I'd'a probly been put out too. I mean, shit, I was half jealous of that damned picture of her dead bro. 

"Just tell her. She needs to know" Was what Carol advised, but it was that moment that Abra walked outta the trees, and goddamned if we weren't right back at the prison, and she took all my words outta joint and put 'em back together in a way that made her mad at me. She din't yell, she was smarter than that, but she sure was pissed. 

"Tell who what?" She stood there with her arms folded 'n her face all petulant, lookin' like a fuckin' teen more'n a 30 year old, and I think I might'a laughed, as her eyes got all narrow and her lips pursed more. Carol looked at me and raised her eyebrows. 

"Yeah" I said, "Yeah thanks, Carol" and she smiled, and walked back into the church, leavin' me to deal with the fall out.

* * *

 I had come out to use the world's biggest toilet, and I had left my jacket inside. I hugged my arms around myself as I heard Daryl and Carol talking in hushed tones. Some secret between them. I didn't mind, really I was glad he had a friend. If he had an issue with me, he had someone to talk to.

After I emerged from the shrubbery, after Carol had gone back inside, Daryl looked at me for a long time. He didn't move, just looked at me, and I was becoming uncomfortable under his intense gaze. But something told me to wait this out, not to say anything. Eventually he said my name, and his voice was soft, soaked up by the deep dark around us.

"Abra" he said again, and it was almost as though it hurt him to speak my name. His brow furrowed, and he stumble-stepped towards me. "I want you to know somethin'" he whispered as he got closer. "You... I will never hurt you. I ain't never gonna put you in danger. I put your life before my own" He reached for me, took me in his arms on that cold and careless night. He was warm, so warm.

"I know" I managed to reply, worried there was something he wasn't telling me. It was unlike him to be open, and it was clearly difficult for him. 

He kissed my temple, hard, and I could have sworn his face was damp. 

It might have just been cold, Daryl may have cried when Carol showed up, but that was a woman he was sure was dead. I was here, in his arms, alive and well. 

But still I felt my own eyes well up. Since Terminus we had not been alone, and the overwhelming sense of how close we all came to the end suddenly hit me. 

"I love you" I whispered, hoping he heard through my tears, hoping he knew I meant every word, every syllable, every stroke of every letter. 

In reply he leaned away, leant his head down to mine and kissed me softly. Not like after the attack of Joe's gang, not like the night he came back from finding me a new hunting knife, but softly and delicately like I was something to be savoured and cherished.

He never said the words, not then, but I felt it in every movement of his body, as for the first time we had sex without an ounce of anguish or pain. Without first arguing like cat and dog. 

The first time we really made love.


End file.
